Strange Strangers
by Fictionnaire
Summary: WARNING! Self Insertion Fic! What happens when I, a Fanfiction writer somehow finds him self transported into the NCIS realm. What could possibly happen? Rated for some naughty words.
1. Chapter 1

_**Strange Strangers**_

_**A/N: WARNING! Self-insertion fic. If you don't like it, then, you've been warned. Too much time on my hands during work. LOL. This is what happens if I of all people found themselves working at NCIS. What could possibly go wrong? Anything and everything when you try and stay out of trouble.**_

* * *

"Agent… Agent Tionnaire," I heard the annoyed tone of a female. It was really intriguing to hear the shh sound at the beginning of the name. With that, it sounded French.

"Sorry… What?" I looked around. My mind snapped out of the daydreaming when I noticed that the fiery red-head was waiting for me to respond. What the hell was I doing in the Director's office of NCIS? Don't tell me I fell asleep while watching NCIS once again. Guess, I should really cut down on my viewing.

"I'm welcoming you to our NCIS," the woman before me was Jenny. Well at least I wasn't sitting across from Vance. He's not a very popular guy with us. But he's not too bad really. It's Jenny I'm more concerned about. Oh wait, I guess I've gone off track here.

"Thank you, Jenny," I responded to her. Well how else was I supposed to respond to a person that I've seen more regularly than my own mother? The look in her eyes said it all. She wasn't too pleased with me calling her by her first name. "Ma-am, Madam, uh Madam Director," I rattled off a few titles to see if I could find one she liked.

"I'll show you to your workstation," Jenny said as she got to her feet.

"Thank you," I said with a curt nod.

With Jenny referring to me as Agent Tionnaire, it was safe to presume that my first name was Fic. Surprise, surprise that my name in this NCIS world is my Fan fiction penname. I resisted the urge to poke Jenny or anyone walking by. How could this be happening? It was definitely a dream. I had attempted several techniques to see if I was dreaming. Flicking a light switch on and off had only succeeded in infuriating Jenny. Maybe I was already in a lucid dream.

"Cool," I said louder than I thought.

"What was that Agent Tionnaire?" Jenny asked as we descended the stairs into squad room.

"Nothing," I quickly responded.

"Excuse me?" Jenny looked annoyed again. I'm not sure how long I've been here, but I've already managed to rub the authority up the wrong way.

"Madam, ma-am, miss, Mrs.?" I rattled off the titles once again. Sooner or later, I'd hit the right one.

"I don't know how they do things in… Where are you from?" Jenny asked me.

I thought my accent gave that away, or lack of an accent. It depends on which way you look at it. "Australia. The Western side that is," I answered her. "We're pretty informal down there. But I'll make sure I'll be respectful from now on Madam Director," I said as we passed the infamous bullpen.

"Good… This is your workstation," Jenny showed me a cubicle.

I surveyed the surroundings once again. I know I've seen it all before. Nothing was different to the show even down to the horrible orangey walls. Yuck! The Bullpen was only a few feet away. "Wait a second… Just hang on," I said in a surprised tone. "Wasn't this Pacci's desk?" I asked. "Don't get me wrong… I'm not complaining. I just don't want to die," okay, so I was complaining. "You know, there are some chairs or even objects that are believed to be cursed. For instance, in Ninety-five in Louisiana. A young couple had recently-."

"You and Dr Mallard should get along fine," Jenny smirked as she interrupted my story. It's not fair that people, even in my dreams are interrupting my strange but true tales. "I got to get going," she bid her farewell.

I smiled back at her. I do have a thing for red-heads. Just ask some people that know me. Jenny's a fine looking woman, of course, but she doesn't hold a candle to Scully. But that's another story, that's another dream. Enough of that, anyway, it felt strange to go through something I had no business going through. If this was Pacci's desk… Then it's safe to assume I'm working cold cases. I pulled the first folder out of the cabinet and placed it on the desk. People have to start from somewhere. "RO 4138… Speak to me," it didn't feel odd to be speaking to the computer. I typed the case file number into the Database.

Damn! Even in a dream, I still had to wear my glasses. Finally, the typed letters became clear as I familiarized myself with the case. It was actually a triple homicide. Originally it was treated as serial murders but the case went colder than Albany in Winter when no new evidence came up.

After a long time of reading, it was taking its toll. I'm so not used to reading like this for any length of time. It had to be knock off time. But that presented yet another hurdle. Where did I live? Where was I staying in this fantasy of mine. "Where the hell do I live?" I asked myself.

There was something I could try. I closed my eyes and pictured my self at a nice apartment or house. That should've worked. I opened my eyes, nope, I was still in the squad room. "Man… This is so frakked up," I said out loud. There were times I had to make sure I didn't say things out loud. Take two… I decided to give it a second try and decided to think even harder.

* * *

"Watch it there," I immediately recognized the voice before I opened my eyes. It was impossible to stare in awe at Team Gibbs walking by. They were larger than life. Alright, so I go all gooey when I see famous people. The team was really in a hurry, obviously they were busy. I made a note to introduce myself later, but there was no way I wanted to interrupt them in an appropriate time. Ziva and Tony chatted about something that nothing to do with work whatsoever, I assumed that Gibbs had disappeared on a coffee run. This had turned into the perfect opportunity to nuzzle in. And maybe find out more about myself some way.

"Agent McGee?" I extended my hand over his desk. "Can you help me? I was hoping you could access a personnel file of an Agent Fic Tionnaire," I requested. McGee had an uncanny ability to hack into any mainframes. What's surprising to me, is the Pentagon or the CIA haven't arrested him yet. "It's to do with an old case," I explained to McGee. "Can you make a printout?"

"Sure," McGee answered me. I was sure glad that he didn't question me further.

I was pleased with myself. It didn't seem to be arousing suspicion. I don't see why not and wondered how long this frakked up reality was going to last. Well, I didn't want it to end too quickly. That was the problem with dreams. On the way to the printer, I bumped straight into someone. Gibbs was staring right at me and his gray shirt was covered in precious spilled coffee. To say that Gibbs was pissed was an understatement.

"Shit," that was the first word that came out of my mouth. My first meeting with Agent Jethro Gibbs was shot to hell. There was only one chance at first impressions and I blew it. I came across as a complete idiot. "Sorry, I mean, I uh, um I," I stammered like an idiot alright. Thankfully, my internal fight or flight switch changed to flight and I quickly retrieved the printout and backed out of the bullpen.

The information on Fic Tionnaire, whoops, I mean myself was sparce. At least it had my address on it. It's a far cry from my little place outside of Perth. "Oh man," I pulled out my wallet from the pocket. Don't ask me why I didn't check that before. Credit card, bank card, library card... Alright, that was the usual list of things. Money, good... Driver's license... Driver's license? I've only been on a couple of driving lessons and they weren't they weren't great experiences. This, could be interesting. I looked at the keys and felt my lips broaden into a smile. If this was some sort of alternate reality, why couldn't I have a better picture for his ID. But then again I always looked like a freak on camera. But there was still one problem... What the hell did I drive? To me, all keys looked the same. Well, that meant a trip down to the garage. Was the cars kept there or were they kept somewhere else? They never showed them pulling up to the NCIS building in their transports... Oh boy.

I looked around the garage to see if I could spot my ride. Pretty bloody unlikely, since I had no idea what I was looking for. Why oh why couldn't I have found myself in one of my own fanfiction stories? Then it jumped out at me... A black Kawasaki Ninja motorcycle. It was bulkier than I had imagined. For all those that don't know... a lot of you really. I was writing this story where a demon rode this very motorbike. Well, there it is... It had to be. I walked slowly up to it, maybe it'd set off an alarm or something. Maybe it wasn't mine. With a shaky hand, I put one of the keys into the ignition. It fit in perfectly. I revved up the beast and stroked the frame. The engine sounded like music. "Cool," I said out loud. It was time to get moving and head home...

With a bit of a bunny hop, I managed to get the motorcycle going forward at a breakneck speed of five miles an hour. Why couldn't this reality give me driving skills? I guess that would've been too easy.

* * *

_**My Apartment**_

What probably was a only a fifteen minute trip, took me about forty minutes of blaring car horns and angry shouts. Hm, next time, I guess I'll try a little faster. Well, my apartment had the basic essentials... A writing desk, a desktop computer and a TV with a DVD player with a shitload of DVDs in the cupboard. At least there was a nice kitchen area and a cozy bedroom. Would it ruin things if I went to sleep? Will I wake up to my own so-so life? I guess only time will tell.

* * *

_**A/N: Alright, this is a silly idea. But anyway, find out on the next installment... As I try and get on Team Gibbs. Will things start going the right way or will things get worse for me?**_ Oh and what could possibly go wrong when I meet Abby? LOL


	2. Chapter 2

_**Strange Strangers 2**_

_**A/N: Special thanks to all your kind reviews. It's been a joy to write this. It's so fun. Here's some more of the little misadventures. And oh God, I hope Tony doesn't find out about what I've written about or that he doesn't read fanfics. A) I think he'll hate me and B) I think his Gibbs'll kill him. LOL. Anyway read on.**_

* * *

Well at least I had a fully stocked wardrobe. Hey, I wondered how it happened. But while I'm here, I might as well make the most of it. Even I have to admit that it made me look good. Now I wouldn't say that black is too slimming but I was looking like a Man In Black... Just call me Agent F. Ha, ha. I hummed to myself much to the dismay of the elevator passengers. Finally, the elevator dinged and the metallic prison opened it's doors. Yeah, I just love referring to an elevator as a metallic prison. I don't travel in them too much. Not too many places in Perth where you need to.

"Come on, take a walk with me... Take a walk with me... Just slide with me, just slide with me," I began singing quietly as I kind of danced to my workstation. "Make your neck work... Now Freeze!" I finally sat down after getting odd stares from people. Even as crazy as me being here was, odd behavior was still noticed by people. I could feel an uncomfortable heat on my cheeks.

I had to get a report from the Lab. Oh that meant one thing. Meeting Abby. Abby doesn't bother me, yeah, she looks strange but I love strange things... Hell you should see my movie and book collection... Horror, supernatural and Sci-Fi mainly. I grabbed the file and jogged to the elevator. I was distracted only for a second but that was all was needed. Gibbs stood in front of me, with is almighty powerful death stare... Another coffee stain appeared on his shirt.

"Shit!" I cursed. Why doesn't Gibbs ever announce his presence.

"What the hell are you doing?" Gibbs growled at me. I looked at him as my mind went totally blank. "Where are you going in such a hurry?" Gibbs demanded to know.

Finally a question I could answer. "I'm going down to Abby's lab," I cringed internally at my answer. I must've sounded like a kid excited about going to lunch at school.

"When did you start working here?" Oh Fan-Frakken-Tastic. I was being interrogated by Gibbs.

"Yesterday," My tone turned serious. There were always times when you just had to be serious.

"This is twice you've knocked coffee out of my hand," Gibbs huffed in anger. Normally I love that while watching the show, but to experience that in person was frightening. "You've never heard of Rule Twenty Three?" He asked me.

Damn! Rule 23, Rule 23... What the hell was rule 23? "Never go anywhere without a knife? Don't sleep with your co-workers, never sleep with a witness/suspect?" I rattled a few things off. "Damn, I'm an idiot," I said. I really have to learn to use my internal dialog.

"Tell me something I don't know," Gibbs said impatiently.

I had to think quick. "The Sullivans was an Australian Television show based on an Australian wartime family," I said. Of course, I didn't quite think the consequences thoroughly. Fortunately, Gibbs stood there in silence as his mind processed the new useless information. This gave me the chance to escape. After all... It is I... The King of useless random information. It was hard not to smile.

_**Abby's Lab**_

Now, at the risk of sounding like a complete and utter old prude, I hate loud music and my musical knowledge is still stuck in the eighties. I think I never got past Bad. The noise reverberating around the Lab almost sounded like an Alien from V shouting. I walked to the source of noise and turned the stereo off.

"Hey, Boss-man. I really wasn't expecting you until later, but it's good, I'm short of Caf-Pow for my morning's intake. I could really use a pick-me-up to get me through," Abby said.

I was sure that my eyes were beginning to do a crazy dance. Abby sounds as, I don't know what she sounds like, but it was impossible for my mind to keep up with her talking. "Excuse me," I tapped her on the shoulder delicately. Honestly, I completely forgot about getting her a Caf-Pow. Hell, I didn't even know where to get them from.

"You're not Gibbs," Abby said as she turned around to face me. I expertly dodged one of her pig-tails.

"Ah, no," I responded quickly. I took a step backwards and almost fell over. The thing that grabbed my attention was the web on her neck... On that neck was a spider and the way Abby turned it looked like it was coming straight for me. I know, I know... But I suffer Arachnophobia something chronic. So , I swore that the little bastard on her neck moved. "Whoa there," I said as I put some distance between me and Abby's tattoo. There was no way I'm getting that close to that tattoo again.

"What's up with you?" Abby asked me.

"Nothing, nothing at all," I answered. I don't if it sounded convincing or not. "I was wondering if you had a hard copy of your report for case file number RO 4438," I requested of her.

"Sure," Abby said as she went into her office. I watched her work the computer. I could clearly picture Gibbs and Abby signing through the glass. That always looked like so much fun.

"Here you are," Abby came back into the main part of the lab.

"Thank you, thank you," I said. I think part of her exuberance was rubbing off on me. Though, I was still making sure that I kept at a safe distance. I understand that she's a fan favorite and all, but she's somewhat scary looking. "Thanks... Next time I'll make sure to bring you down a cup of that Caf-Pow," I assured her before leaving.

_**156 Cooper Street**_

_**Lancer Residence.**_

I thought to totally get a handle on the case, I'd should interview everyone. The first one on the list was the brother to the first victim. He had a grudge against his sister that had grown over the years into a family feud. According to the evidence report from Abby, there was a hunting knife with his sister's blood on it. That's enough to raise suspicions in my book.

I was at least getting the hang of riding the Kawasaki Ninja. At least I was now going at a real terrifying speed of 20 miles per hour. I stopped the in front of the house and knocked on the door. Hell yeah, I was nervous. What was I going to say? I've seen enough cop shows to know how to question somebody. An older man opened the door.

"Who the hell are you?" The man asked me. He was awfully rude about it.

"Agent Tionnaire, NCIS," I showed him my badge. "I just want to ask you a few questions," I introduced myself and gave the reason why I'm here.

Before I could react, the man ran past me, knocking me into the bushes. Shouldn't surprise me really. I picked myself up and gave chase. Well let's just say, I'm no bloody athlete and I don't carry a gun. So you can imagine how much affect I have when I was shouting stopped. Every time it looked as if I was gaining ground, the more people seemed to get in the way. Nobody seemed willing to stop him for me. Unfortunately it was inevitable that I lost him. There was a lot of people around, but not the person I was after.

I walked back to the Lancer residence. Boy, I'm way out of shape. I've never been too athletic in my adult life. My body was paying for that fact as I struggled to take deep breaths in. I was stopped in my tracks by Tony and Ziva. "Hey guys," I said after I got my breath back. "What's the problem?"

They stared at me like I should have known what the problem was. "What were you doing?" Ziva asked me.

"You mind telling me what you were doing? We had that place under surveillance," Tony interjected before I could answer.

I looked at my folders. Then I realized that the number of the case file and the evidence file were two different numbers. Oh shit, I was at the wrong place. "I was chasing up a lead on a suspect of a cold case and it lead me here," well this way I could at least pretend that our investigations inadvertently crossed paths. Well, that was better than looking like a complete idiot.

"You idiot," Tony shouted at me. "Oh man boss is going to kill you," he threatened me.

"Not if we kill him first," Ziva was clearly annoyed. "You better come and explain it to Gibbs," she said. That was something I didn't like the sound of. This couldn't turn out too well. But I had no choice but to obey.

_**NCIS BULLPEN**_

I stood there and listened as I copped an earful of Gibbs' ranting about how I screwed over their case. I eventually had to lower my eyes. My ears were beginning to hurt. Oh boy, could Gibbs shout when he's angry. Everybody was looking in the direction of the Bullpen. I had tried to apologize but I couldn't fit a word in each way. Now, the Director had come down to see what the ruckus was about. It was time for self preservation.

When you want to appear sad, just think of the most depressing thing you could think of. So I did. The director may act tough, but I know she cared for every employee under her command. I started sniffling. With Gibbs' attitude, I was sure I wouldn't be the only one that Gibbs had caused to cry.

"Agent Gibbs!" Jenny interrupted. She was given the quick version of events to what had caused this outrage. "Now look, it's not his fault that the investigations had crossed path. For the duration of he case, he is on your team," she said afterwards.

Whoa, that happened quickly. I couldn't help but give a goofy smile. "That idiot?" Team Gibbs said in unison. I felt my smile quickly fade.

"Yes... That idiot," Jenny responded before leaving.

"I don't know what you did... But don't expect any nice treatment from us," Gibbs said.

"Aren't you going to welcome me aboard?" Bloody hell, I really need to think before opening my mouth.

"What took you so long getting back?" Ziva asked me.

"I guess I'm just too much of a defensive driver," A light came on in my mind. I had a great idea. "Ziva... Your driving skills are so well known in Oz... You think you can teach me some driving?" I asked hopefully.

Her eyes narrowed. "Why do you call me by my first name? You really been acting like you know us... We only just met and you only came to work yesterday," Ziva said observantly. Yes that was true.

"I uh, guess I've just heard you talk like that. I just picked up on it," I shrugged my shoulders apologetically.

"I will give you some driving lessons," Ziva said.

"Ooh, somebody must have a death wish," Tony said and McGee laughed. Well even though it was off to a rocky start, at least things couldn't get too much worse from here on in... Hopefully.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Strange Strangers 3**_

To say you needed a spare set of eyes when working on Team Gibbs is an understatement. Every time I was about to turn around, I had to look over my shoulder beforehand because I was afraid of bumping into Gibbs again.

"Hey," Tony got my attention.

Hey? Hey? I do have a name though. "Yes," I decided to take the non confrontational response.

"Put up some of the pictures on the plasma so you can familiarize yourself with the case," Tony said. "You do have plasma screens in Australia?" He asked. I was sure he was just trying to bait me… Well if he's going to enjoy him self then so will I.

"Yeah, we have all the modern cons in WA. We've even upgraded from holes in the ground and actually got toilets outside now," I smiled at him to dare him to bait me further. But there still had to be a small amount of caution when dealing with DiNozzo… I know he's a crafty bugger… I'll just have to watch my back. I swiped the remote controller from McGee's desk and studied it. There were more buttons than they showed on the show. McGee only pressed one or two buttons ever. This thing looked like a three in one remote.

There was only one way to find the right button and that was to try them all. Alright, I have this terrible urge to press buttons. Whenever I play a game, I just have to have my characters press a button. I just can't help it… What does this button do? That'd be a question that I'm sure will get me into trouble some day. Well here goes…

Right… There was nothing happening at first. Until I noticed all the lights in the bullpen had been turned off. They have a button for that? How convenient. I pressed another button.

"_Love shack… Baby. Baby, Love Shack," _singing could be heard over the PA system. What? I quickly pressed another button. _"Come on, come on, come on Baby now… Twist and shout!"_ I almost dropped the damn thing trying to turn it off.

I heard snickering coming from behind me. It was either McGee or Tony. "I thought you said you had plasmas in Australia," Tony just had to make the comment.

"It's not my fault," I defended myself. "This is an American remote… It's crap," I told him. That had to be the reason why everything was going all screwy.

"Hey don't blame the equipment," McGee said as he typed away at the computer.

"It is crap!" I raised my voice. After turning all the lights back on and turning the music off. Why would they have a button on the plasma remote that turns on music? I don't think anybody had said that NCIS was down to Earth but this was really, really something odd. "There we go," I declared triumphantly. I looked through the photographs and information. It was hard to take in all the information. How the hell did they fit so much information on a small photograph? It seemed almost illogical. I read over it a few times to retain the important information.

"So have we got anything to go on?" I asked hopefully.

"Well we did have that house under surveillance… That's a strong lead," Tony said. "Oh wait a minute! That plan was stuffed up by someone in this room! I won't mention names but it's the guy looking at the plasma screen!" Tony raised his voice.

Oh man, I was never going to let it down was I? "So Ziva? When will be the best time for a driving lesson?" I asked. It was a ploy to get rid of that damn accusation from Tony. I don't care how true it was.

"What on your bike?" Ziva asked.

"On my Kawasaki _nin-ja_," I said, saying the ninja part excitedly.

"Ooh, ninja assassin riding a ninja," Tony said with a laugh.

I had to cough to stop myself from smiling. It was so funny to see how they interacted. "Well, how about now?" Ziva said with a mischievous grin that frankly frightened me. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Perhaps, I should've asked someone else. Anyway, too late to back out now.

_**Outside The Navy Yard**_

"So, you drive too defensively?" Ziva asked me. "Why?"

Ziva hopped onto the bike and I sat on the back with my arms wrapped around her waist. "I guess I figure if I go too fast I might hurt myself or someone else," I answered her. Well that was the truth. I didn't want to tell her that I've never driven on the streets before. Well my driving lessons weren't too good a memory to have. But I'm sure nobody wants to hear about them.

"Hang on tight," Ziva said. "I am going to give you a crash course," she donned the helmet.

I gulped. "Bad choice of words Ziva," I shouted.

"What?" Ziva shouted back.

"A crash course in driving isn't something I want to have," I told her.

"I will show you that you can go very fast and not get you or anyone else hurt, right?" Ziva asked. I don't think she got what I was trying to say. I must've nodded because she started the engine.

The cars soon became a blur as my motorbike reached speeds I'd never dreamed of going. Buildings blurred past and so did people. It was scary with the eyes open, but I dared not close them. Where the hell did Ziva learn to drive anyway? She turned the corner without decelerating too much. I was very thankful when Ziva stopped after about a hellraising half hour.

"There, was that so bad? We are in one piece," Ziva said.

I felt like falling to my knees and kissing the ground or throwing up. One of the two. Thankfully, I did neither one. "No, it wasn't too bad," I answered.

"Next time… Do not hold on so tight," Ziva told me. "I think you have sharp nails no?"

I gave her a smile and donned my helmet and took the front. "So, basically I ride like a madman, don't care if I live or die. Don't care if someone else lives or dies. It's just like Vice City," I said to her. The visor hid my own evil grin.

"If it means a more aggressive form of driving… Then yes, just like Vice City," I was sure Ziva didn't have a clue what Vice City was or else she would've never said that.

I revved up the Ninja… The Ninja bike that is. And soon accelerated down the street. My heart felt like it was beating as fast as the bike was going. It was tough to get through that barrier of fear. But I guess then, showboating took over and I even took the corner very fast. I just managed to dodge a couple of blurry objects.

"Turn left!" I heard Ziva shout frantically as I turned right.

"Oh FRAK!" I shouted as I just turned right into a one way street and was now heading into oncoming traffic. There was no time to think. I quickly rode onto the footpath and caused many people to squeal in panic, including me. Fortunately they took the option of getting out of my way. I hit a bump and ended up doing a wheelie for a few meters. "Yee-ha!" I screamed at the top of my lungs before I managed to get the bike back onto two wheels.

"Look out!" Ziva tapped me on the shoulder.

Unfortunately, I instinctively turned around to see what she wanted. The bike turned the same way as I looked and when I looked back, the bike straightened. It was shocking to figure out that it looked as if I had expertly dodged a table. "I think I should get back on the road!" I yelled.

"No!" Ziva shouted again.

"This is fun!" I shouted as people managed to get out of my way before I was back on the road going the same way as the traffic. Now I felt more relax. It must be true what they say… Exposure cures fears. The bike came to a screeching halt in the garage right in my parking spot. "Same time tomorrow for a lesson I smiled," it didn't go unnoticed that my legs were wobbling a bit.

"Are you ok? You look a little green around the bills," Ziva observed.

"Gills. That is gills Ziva," I corrected automatically.

"Ok, gills. But no, I do not think I will take you again. You already drive aggressively," she said as we got into the elevator. "Why did you turn right after I told you to turn left?" Ziva asked.

"You told me to turn left after I turned right," I defended myself. But it was fun wasn't it? I wondered if I'd be receiving a visit by the police or even receive traffic infringements in the mail.

"Did you not know that was a one way street?" Ziva asked me on the ride up.

"No," I answered truthfully.

"How long have you been in DC?"

"I arrived here yesterday," I answered her. Don't tell me I was getting drilled. The elevator doors finally opened and we went to the bullpen. "Plus it wasn't my fault. That was how you told me to do it," I said to her. McGee and Tony were listening to the conversation.

"I did not tell you to drive like that," Ziva responded.

"When I mentioned Vice City, you said sure like that," I reminded her. "So I honestly did what she had told me to… To drive like I'd drive in Vice City," I said with a sly smile.

"You know what this maniac did?" Ziva asked, she pointed to me. I was on the way to the desk hidden behind the wall next to McGee's own desk. "He turns into oncoming traffic then rides on the footpath on one wheel," Ziva continued her explanation.

"You told me to drive like I was in Vice City," I told her loudly.

"I do not know what is Vice City. What is this Vice City anyway?" Ziva asked.

"It's a game where you do missions for people, crash cars, drive around and kill as many people as you can in the shortest amount of time," I explained to her. "Kind of like you and Mossad," again the words escaped before I could stop them. I gulped hard. Damn it Fic! Why can't you think before you open your mouth?

There was an unearthly silence. My words had managed to silence the bullpen. It was as if the whole world had stopped. "And what you think I am Mossad?" Ziva asked. She did not look too happy about that label. "And how do you know?" The tone was full of accusation. I really had put my foot in it this time.

"I got it!" Tony exclaimed loudly. "Agent Tionnaire here is a spy… He is Jenny's Lackey," he said.

"Now wait a minute… This isn't one of McGee's books," I said.

"How the hell do you know so much about us?" Tony asked in an annoyed tone. He stood to full height. Damn it, Tony could tower over everybody. Well, tower over me anyway. "Have you been spying on us?" He demanded an answer.

"No," I shook my head violently. How the hell was I supposed to get out of this one?

"Then how do you know so much about us? And you do refer to us like you've known us for a long time when you have just arrived," Ziva added to the unofficial interrogation.

"Yeah," Tony added. Three sets of eyes were now on me. I could feel the tension rising or maybe it was just me. Now I had the appreciation of the comedians on the improvisation show, _Thank God You're Here_ feel like. I had to think quickly.

"I'm psychic," I declared proudly. Of course it was a lie, but if you say anything with such conviction, it'd actually make people second guess what they believe. Plus it wasn't as if they never had anything really weird happen to them.

"Yeah right," Tony went back to his desk. I'm sure he was going to keep a close eye on me. That was obvious.

"I can prove it to you," I brought my forefingers up to my temples and closed my eyes as if I was concentrating. "Give me a moment," I said. My act was interrupted by the smell of coffee. "Hi Gibbs," I said casually. I opened my eyes and saw Gibbs standing before me with that usual gruff look on his face.

"What are you doing?" Gibbs asked me.

"Displaying my amazing psychic ability," I said all too cheerfully. This must've really annoyed him because he raised his hand and slapped me on the back of the head. "Hey, that hurt," I rubbed the back of my head.

"You shoulda seen that coming," Gibbs said. "Gear up," he told us all.

"Dead Petty Officer," I put in. I was intent on showing off my skills. But technically it was just playing the law of averages. In NCIS there was always a dead petty officer somewhere.

"Gear up… Get moving," Gibbs was already heading towards the elevator.

"Does he hit you that hard?" I asked Tony.

"He hits everyone hard," Tony answered as he picked up his bag.

"That explains a lot," at least this time I stopped myself from saying something else. The last comment went unnoticed as we entered the elevator. I was actually getting excited to be seeing a body? Man, that sounds sick. But this was going to be my first crime scene. God, I hope I don't do something to screw it up. But there was this niggly feeling that something bad was sure to occur.


End file.
